The Talk
by Black.Rose.Authoress
Summary: France, Prussia, and Spain decide that it's time to give their little colonies "the talk". This is why these guys should have never been allowed to raise kids...
1. Chapter 1

A/N: So you know how way back in...I think Leunung...I randomly mentioned Prussia and France giving Germany the "talk"... Well... Yeah. I decided to write it out. I think it'll probably only be 3-4 parts, so it'll hopefully be finished soon. Warnings for blatant anachronism with ages and such…mostly used purely for the cuteness ;D

* * *

**The Talk**

**Part 1**

Today was the day.

France was standing in his office, decidedly not starting on the piles of paperwork that almost covered his entire desk. Instead, he was flitting around the room happily, singing softly to himself in French as he flipped through stacks of papers and shoved various documents into his briefcase.

He paused by his desk, glancing down with a bright smile at the calendar that covered a good quarter of the space. It was an impressive calendar. It had actually been a gift from his boss this year—as a way to keep himself organized (AKA: Get rid of his usual excuse for getting to meetings late). It was probably the first gift from a boss that he'd actually bothered to use.

The thing was crammed with his flowery script, each day marked with at least four different meetings. He'd even done one better and had adopted a colour for each type of appointment. Black for meetings with his boss or other very important people, blue for World Summit meetings, green for personal appointments, and red for his…

…Well… Let's call them his 'even more personal' appointments.

There was a lot of red on the calendar.

Today's box was a little different, however, as it was missing the lines of text that were crammed into the others. Instead, it had been outlined with a purple marker and then filled inside with a large pink heart.

And that was because today was _the _day. The day he'd been waiting for!

He was interrupted from his excitement by the sudden vibration of his cell phone in his back pocket. He immediately pulled it out, glancing at the caller ID and grinning brightly as he answered. "Bonjour, mon amour!"

"Fucking bloody frog! Fuck…" He could hear some rustling from the other end, along with more muttered curses and threats. He just stood there patiently, distractedly running his finger around the outline of the heart on the calendar.

"Mon Angleterre?" he questioned, as it seemed that England wasn't going to be continuing anytime soon.

"What's the fucking idea of having your bloody friends come over here and tie me up?!"

"Ah, mon ami, don't tell me that you forgot what day it is today?" So Prussia and Spain had done as he asked. And they'd even apparently left a phone within reach so England could call him… He'd have to thank them later.

There was a long pause on the other end of the line, as if England was trying to imagine what in the world France could be talking about. "What…day? What are you talking about? Today isn't anything special! And what does that have to do with tying me—"

"Mon ami, I am disappointed in you. How could you forget such an important day in your little colony's life?"

Now there was a long _long _pause, finally ended by incomprehensible spluttering on the other end.

"What are you talking about, you wanker?! What does Alfred have to do with any of this? You'd better not be planning on doing anything perverted to him or I swear I'll make the Hundred Years' War look like a damned picnic!"

"Relax, mon cher. I was thinking nothing of the sort. Remember. We spoke of this a while ago. Today is an important day for your little Alfred and mon cher Mathieu."

Another pause and then, "Just come out and bloody say it. I have no idea what you're talking about."

"We agreed that Mathieu and Alfred would learn about l'amour today. Remember?"

Ah, England had remembered, if the strangled sound that came through the phone was anything to go by. France grinned even more widely and held the phone a few inches from his ear. Three. Two. One…

"YOU BLOODY WANKER! I never said that, and I said that I would tell them when I had to! Since you'd just traumatize the poor kids… I told you to keep away from them!"

"But mon amour, no one knows more about l'amour than I do. It would be a shame for them to only get the abridged version from you. Particularly when they have an expert such as myself ready and willing to tell them everything that they need to know."

"I am going to fucking kill you. I am going to fucking kill you, France…"

"Mon Angleterre, do not worry. Alfred and Mathieu are in my very capable hands. You do not have anything to fear."

"Once I get out of this, I am going to murder you."

"Now, Angleterre, I must go. I don't want to keep mes amis waiting. I'll see you later."

And at this, he hung up, ignoring the screeching profanities that ended the conversation with England. Then he slipped the phone back into his pocket and went back to singing happily to himself. Ah, today was going to be a marvelous day.

~.~.~

Today was going to be a horrible day.

"Lovi~? Por favor? It's just for a little bit."

"No! I don't want to, bastard!"

Spain sighed as he stared at the irritated child glaring up at him from his seat on the couch. He loved Lovi. He really did. He just had to keep reminding himself of the fact.

"Come on, Lovi." He held out the little brown jacket that he'd been trying to coax Romano into for the past half hour. "Your brother will be there and so will Alfred and—Francis's other colony—and you'll have lots of fun."

Romano flashed him a skeptical look. "I. Don't. Wanna. Go!"

Spain knew that he could have just picked him up and carried him out of the house, but he really hated to manhandle his little charge in any way. "Lovi…" Fine. It was time for his weapon of last resort. He sighed, hanging the coat back up in the closet and walking out into the kitchen.

He paused for a few moments, listening carefully. Shouldn't take long.

That was a moment of short silence. Then there was a soft thump and then the sound of little feet following him.

He grinned and then continued across the room to the refrigerator, pulling the door open so he could bend inside and pull out a small jar of red liquid. He heard a soft gasp from behind him and then it quietly stifled itself.

Cute…His Lovi was so cute.

He carefully unscrewed the lid of the jar and then walked over to the cupboard, pulling a tomato-shaped sippy-cup from the top shelf. He began to pour the liquid into the sippy-cup and now definitely heard a sound from his charge.

He turned, catching Romano peeking around the doorframe at him, his head ducking out of sight so only his curl was visible when he noticed that Spain had caught him watching.

"Would Lovi like some tomato juice?"

Romano peeked out again, eyeing the cup greedily, but not yet trusting him enough to actually walk across the room to grab it.

"If you come with me, Lovi, I'll let you have the tomato juice. If not, I'll have to drink it myself."

The Italian's eyes widened in horror at that and he took an involuntary step forward. "Mine!"

"Will you come?" he questioned, starting to bring the cup closer to his mouth. "You can only have it if you put on your coat and come with me to Prussia's house."

For a very long moment, Romano seemed to be weighing his options. Finally, he turned and ran back the way he'd come. Spain mentally patted himself on the back. If nothing else worked, then bribe the kid.

Romano returned in a few minutes with his coat on…the buttons entirely mismatched. He immediately ran to Spain's legs and attempted to grab at the cup. "Gimme!"

Spain chuckled, but then nodded and handed the cup to him, grinning to himself as Romano instantly began to drink the tomato juice, trying to get as much as he could as fast as he could.

"Slow down, Lovi. Come on." He knelt down and began to redo his buttons, standing after a few minutes and smiling at him fondly. "You'll have fun. Don't worry."

~.~.~

"Ve~! Ludwig!"

The German child had no time to prepare himself for the sudden attack; he opened the door and the next moment he was lying on the floor, a very exuberant Italian boy bouncing up and down on his stomach.

"Ludwig!"

Ow.

"Feli!" And suddenly the weight was removed, giving him a chance to breathe again. Italy giggled in excitement as he was picked up and spun around in a circle by the albino man.

"Ve~ Prussia-nii!"

Germany was still attempting to catch his breath after the sudden attack. He now glanced up to see Austria and Hungary standing in the door, eyeing his brother as if rethinking the intelligence of coming here.

"Prussia…" Austria started.

Prussia glanced over his shoulder and then set the boy back on the floor, flashing the two visitors a cocky grin. "Yep?"

Austria sighed and shook his head, but forced himself to continue. "Prussia, you are well aware that I do not want to do this. However, we really have no other choice. We're going to have to leave Veneciano with you for a few days. Now…" He pulled a small blue notebook from his pocket and handed it to the rather-surprised man. "That's a list of everything that needs to be done in order to take care of Veneciano. It's very important that you follow everything written on that list."

Prussia eyed the notebook as if it were a dead frog, but nodded. "All right… Don't let the kid have any fun. Check. Don't worry your pretty little head about it, Roddy." He winked and flashed him another wide grin, ignoring the glare he was receiving from Hungary. "I'm great with kids."

"Because you are one," Austria muttered just low enough for Prussia not to notice.

Either that or he just pretended not to notice. Either explanation was plausible.

"All right." Hungary knelt down to be on the same level as Italy and squeezed his hands in hers. "You be good, okay?"

"Okay, nee-chan!" he exclaimed, immediately throwing his little arms around her. "I will!"

She smiled and then stood, instantly flashing Prussia a rather frightening glare. "You'll take good care of him, won't you, Gilbert? If he gets hurt or anything happens to him…"

Prussia had visions of frying pan-inflicted concussions flash through his mind. He immediately held up his hands in a surrendering motion. "Hey, hey, don't worry. Nothing's gonna happen to the kid. I'll take good care of him."

The look he received was definitely disbelieving, but then Austria sighed and gave in. "Fine…" He turned, nodding toward Hungary. "All right, we'll see you in a few days, Feli."

"Bye-bye!" the little boy called back, waving happily at them until Prussia closed the door and instantly grinned brightly toward the child.

"So let's see…" Prussia flipped the notebook open, wrinkling his nose in disgust at the familiar, perfectly formed letters of the Austrian's penmanship.

_Rule 1: Veneciano may only have pasta for dinner once every other day. _

_Rule #2: He is also only allowed to have three meals per day along with one snack between lunch and dinner at exactly 15:30._

Prussia glanced toward the clock. It was only ten in the morning. "Hey, Feli, want some pasta?"

Italy immediately jumped up in excitement, eyes shining with joy and his curl bouncing in time with his excited exclamations of "Ve~! Pasta~!!"

"Great, then let's make some while we wait for Antonio and Francis to get here. They're bringing some of the other kids over to play with you and Ludwig."

"Ve~!!" Italy continued to bounce in excitement. "Yay!!"

Germany followed them reluctantly toward the kitchen. Already sensing that this was going to be a disaster.

* * *

A/N: Who let these guys raise kids?

As said, this story makes no sense chronologically, since Romano and Veneciano should be OLDER than America and Canada, but they aren't....Yep... Cuz I felt like ignoring chronology again (which is why Spain has a sippy-cup for Romano… because little!Romano with a sippy-cup of tomato juice is an adorable mental image, which I would draw if I could, but I can't *sad sniff*).


	2. Chapter 2

**The Talk**

**Part 2**

Prussia was impressed. Whoever would have imagined that such a little body could manage to hold so much pasta?

"Want some more, Feli?" he questioned, as he scooped out another serving of spaghetti, slapping it down onto the plate that Italy extended at the offer.

"Ve~ pasta!" he responded joyfully.

Germany was watching the younger boy with an amazed, slightly disturbed, and rather awed expression. He had never in his _life _seen anyone eat that much food in one sitting. Even Prussia couldn't eat that much at one time.

They were suddenly interrupted by the sound of the doorbell ringing, Prussia immediately responding by leaping to his feet, racing over toward the door, and throwing it open excitedly. "Hey, Tonio! Glad you could make it with Romano!"

Spain was standing on the front step, grinning as usual, with Romano seated on his shoulders. "Hey, Gil. Great to see you too."

Romano scowled at the older nation, one of his hands fisting tightly in Spain's hair, the other one clenching a tomato-shaped sippy-cup to his chest. Spain carefully ducked down as he passed through the door, careful that he didn't allow Romano to hit his head.

"Is Francis here yet?" Spain questioned, as he walked over to the couch, attempting to dislodge his charge from his perch. Failing rather miserably too, as Romano refused to let go of his hair.

"Ow, Lovi~, let go, por favor."

"I don't wanna get down."

That kid had a grip. Spain winced in pain as Romano pulled even harder, finally deciding to just let him remain in place, since he really didn't feel like going bald right now. Instead he sat down on the couch and sighed, "Lovi, why are you being so difficult today?"

The child ignored him and instead stared around at the surroundings. Suddenly noticing his brother and Germany watching him. He directed a glare toward Germany and then flashed a slightly less irritated scowl toward Italy. Who ignored it and instead climbed down from his chair at the kitchen table, walked over to the couch, and climbed up beside Spain. Then he grabbed at his brother's foot, as it was the only available body part in reach. "Fratello~!"

Romano kicked at him, although he didn't actually make contact.

"Why don't you go play with your brother, Lovi?" Spain questioned.

"Don't wanna."

Of course, because that would be too easy.

And now the doorbell rang again, Prussia returning to the door and throwing it open. "Hey, Francis!"

France was beaming almost as brightly as Spain had been, each hand occupied by a little colony's hand. Canada was standing on his right side, clutching his polar bear against his chest and staring up at the Prussian shyly. America was standing on the left, staring into the house with bright, curious eyes.

"Hey, kids!" he remarked, kneeling down. "Ludwig, Feli, and Lovi are already inside. Why don't you go play with them? There's pasta too, if Feli hasn't eaten it all yet."

America immediately broke free, darting down the hallway toward the food, while Canada just remained there, hiding behind France's legs as he stared up at the albino.

"Good morning, mon cher!" France exclaimed, as he stepped inside, dragging the reluctant colony after him. He noticed Spain sitting on the couch and beamed even more brightly. "Antoine, you beat me here. So we can get started immediately, then!" He skipped forward and dropped onto the couch beside Italy, grinning at the still scowling Romano.

Prussia closed the door behind him, locking it after thinking for a moment. "Yep, no problems here. So, how are we gonna do this?"

"Well, I shall obviously go first, as I am the master of l'amour. Then you can follow up and Antoine will end it."

"What are we gonna do with Feli and Lovi, though?" Spain questioned. "Aren't they still too little to hear all this?"

Romano had reacted to his name being said by tugging harder on the nation's hair. Spain winced in response to the abuse.

"It's never too early to learn about l'amour!" France replied, taking this opportunity to lift the giggling Italy into his lap and began cuddling him affectionately. "Especially when you're as cute as mon cher Italie."

"Ve~ France-nii~" Italy cuddled up to his big brother figure's chest, pleased by the attention he was receiving. Romano's glare only increased in intensity at that.

"All right…" Prussia started, as he moved toward a table that he'd covered with a sheet earlier this morning, just in case Austria and Hungary decided to check out the house before dropping off their precious charge. He was actually a little surprised that they hadn't gone on some intense mission to make sure everything was safe for their little 'angel'. They must have been really desperate to find someone to take the adorable little thing for them.

And he was suddenly distracted from his path by a loud crash from the kitchen.

At that, Prussia immediately glanced toward Spain. No, Romano was still sitting on his shoulders, attempting to get the last drops of tomato juice from his cup.

"Mathieu!" France was immediately on his feet, hurriedly carrying Italy with him into the other room. Spain followed curiously, Romano banging the cup against his head a couple times in complaint, while Prussia and Germany brought up the rear.

The crowd then walked into the kitchen to see two little North American colonies sitting on the floor, surrounded by shards of porcelain and absolutely covered in spaghetti.

America seemed worse off in that area, strands of pasta hanging from his blond hair, which almost looked red now from the tomato sauce, as did his formerly white shirt. Canada wasn't quite as messy, although he had been splattered with sauce and had a few noodles hanging from his shirt and hair. He looked like he was about to burst into tears, though, probably more scared by the noise than anything else.

America just looked confused, as he looked up at the older nations who were staring at him in amazement.

And then Italy started to cry. "Pasta~!! Pasta went 'smash'!!"

Romano just looked at the mess for a few seconds, apparently trying to decide how he felt about this. Then he started to bang the sippy cup against Spain's dark hair again. "More! More!"

Canada looked up at the adults, his violet eyes starting to swim with tears. France immediately plopped Italy into Prussia's empty arms, almost startling him into dropping the kid, and then hurried over to Canada and scooped him up, cooing to him in French and rubbing his back soothingly.

"Well…" Prussia glanced around the room, catching the eye of his little brother, who was staring at the mess on the floor from the doorway in horror. "How about we get America and Canada cleaned up and then start? Hey, Luddy, why don't you clean up for us in here, 'kay, thanks!" And then he was out of the door and halfway up the stairs with Italy before anyone else had a moment to react. "Slow pokes!" he yelled down to the others, causing Italy to giggle in amusement.

France just shook his head and bent down to pull America into his unoccupied arm. "I don't even want to know how this happened."

"Lovi~ please stop? I'll get you some more tomato juice when we get home."

* * *

A/N: Awww, these kids are way too cute…

I'd like to thank **ConsidertheTriforce** for the adorable fanart for the first chapter. Go to the fanart section on my profile if you'd like to go see it and show MUCH MUCH love!!!

And if anybody else would like to draw fanart for any of my stories, I'd love to see anything you'd like to do and then I'll link it up on my profile ;D


	3. Chapter 3

**The Talk**

**Part 3**

Well, the bathroom was flooded.

Prussia had never really realized how difficult it was to deal with little kids who weren't Germany until today. He hadn't even been the one trying to clean them and he'd gotten soaked.

Although not as soaked as France, who, by the end of the washing, looked as if he'd taken a bath as well. Canada had been easy to bathe, of course, as he'd sat quite still as France gently shampooed his hair and washed his body; he'd actually seemed to enjoy the attention, particularly as the older nation was crooning to him in French the entire time. The problem had been the little American colony, who had started playing with one of Germany's little toy boats, immediately declaring that they were stuck in a storm and he was the hero who had to rescue them.

And, since he had to do so realistically, he'd had to create the storm by splashing around to create waves in the tub. In the process, soaking France and the floor.

And then, once France had finally managed to keep America still long enough to wash him off and was just about to rinse them both with the showerhead, he was suddenly startled as Italy—who had been watching the proceedings with interest—suddenly jumped in to join them. Still fully dressed, of course.

And then Romano, still perched on Spain's shoulders, started whining and attempting to get down as well.

So France had finally given in, filling the tub with new water, undressing both of the Italians…or attempting to undress both of the Italians, Romano refused to let him touch him and stripped himself, dropping his clothing in the water for good measure…and then let the four children splash around in the water for a while.

Which meant they were getting started on their talk a lot later than anyone had planned, but at least the children all seemed to be happy now.

Italy was definitely excited, as he was seated next to Germany on the couch with a bowl of pasta in his lap. Germany's expression was rather unreadable, but he didn't look _unhappy_, so that was all right. America was sitting on the floor, playing with wooden blocks…building towers and then immediately knocking them down, obviously amused by the loud noise they made when he did so. And Canada was cuddling with his polar bear, watching France as he moved around.

Even Romano seemed in a better mood. He was now seated on Spain's lap, his sippy-cup refilled with tomato juice. And he seemed to actually be in feeling cuddly, as he was leaning against the nation's chest, watching the others through half-lidded eyes. Spain looked as he were about to burst from cuteness overload.

"All right, little ones!" France suddenly exclaimed, as he paused in front of the couch, dressed in one of Prussia's outfits, which was rather noticeably large on him. "Today, I am going to teach you all about the wonders of l'amour!"

Germany looked understandably nervous and like he really _really _just wanted to escape while his sanity was still intact.

"Now, l'amour is something marvelous that hopefully all of you will experience many many times in your life. With many people, including big brother France. Remember that. Big brother France is always ready for live demonstrations of anything that he mentions today. Now…" And here he set his hand on the tablecloth and then pulled it off with a flourish.

Germany immediately attempted his escape. Unfortunately for him, Prussia had been waiting for this and grabbed him before he'd even made it off the couch. "Hey, hold on. He hasn't even explained anything yet."

Italy suddenly raised his hand, frantically waving it around until France nodded toward him. Then he leaned forward, eyes intent on the flip chart that France had unveiled, along with a table of interesting brightly-coloured objects. "Ve~ France-nii. Why in that lady eating that man?"

"Ah, cher Italie, that is one way that you can express l'amour to someone. Now, in our discussion today, we're going to talk about the differences in how you show l'amour to a woman or man and a human or other nation. Now, Prusse and I are going to begin the explanation and then Espagne will…" And then he noticed that Spain wasn't paying attention.

As he'd followed Romano's example and fallen fast asleep.

"Antoine?"

"Hey, Tonio! Don't fall asleep on us!" Prussia exclaimed, as he walked over and smacked the other nation on the head.

Which woke him up. Along with the little nation curled up on his lap.

Who immediately began to fuss irritably at being woken up and not finding his sippy-cup magically refilled.

"All right," France returned to his presentation, determined that they get through this. As he knew England well enough to know that it was only a matter of time before he broke through the front door, thirsting for blood. "Now, can anyone tell me what this is?" he questioned, as he lifted up a small plastic package.

Germany was desperately attempting to tune him out by counting all of the cracks on the ceiling.

It was a desperate move that was not working.

Italy raised his hand again.

France was very pleased that he had such an interested pupil. "Yes, Italie?"

"Ve~ is it food?"

"Non, this is actually something very special that is used in order to help you express l'amour to someone. It's called a condom."

Italy frowned slightly, sad that he'd been wrong. France noticed the expression and walked over to pat the little nation on the head. "Don't worry, Italie. Soon you will know everything there is to know about l'amour."

"More juice!"

And they were interrupted again by Romano, who was hitting Spain again with his cup. Spain was starting to regret his bribery technique. He should've used something that was easier to get more of. "Lovi~ I don't have any more."

This did not sit well with the child, who just continued attacking him with the cup, demanding more juice.

"Hey, umm, Francis, can we pause here for a minute?" He questioned, attempting to protect himself with his hands. "Just so I can go out and buy Lovi some more tomato juice?"

Romano paused at this, glancing toward France, who sighed and nodded once. Knowing that he wouldn't be able to talk anyway if Romano was fussing.

And then there was suddenly a screech from the floor.

All three of the older nations jumped in surprise and then glanced down to see America, who had gotten bored with the blocks, attempting to tug Kumajiro from his little brother's arms.

"I want bear!"

"No, mine!"

"Who?"

"Mine!"

"Hey! Hey!" France hurriedly jumped down to separate them, grabbing America with one hand and Canada with the other. "Don't fight!"

Germany immediately saw his chance. He jumped down from the couch, running toward the front door, unlocking it, and throwing it open just in time to almost get kicked in the face by an enraged Englishman. Who thankfully noticed the little boy in time to stop himself from delivering a blow that would have shattered the door off its hinges.

"Ah, Ludwig…" He paused, the rage in his eyes dissipating slightly. Before returning as he heard France and Prussia's voices coming from the other room. Coupled with screeches from Canada and America. "Excuse me, Ludwig. I'm just going to murder France and possibly your brother."

Germany stepped aside quickly, closing the door and following the other nation toward the chaotic room holding everyone else. He should probably stay here. Just to make sure that Prussia didn't actually get killed.

* * *

A/N: This was a rather intense fail on the part of everyone. Oh no! Run Prussia! …France so deserves getting beaten up by an enraged Iggy xD

And I find it rather scary that Italy is the one who's actually paying attention to this. No! Italy, shield your eyes!


	4. Chapter 4

**The Talk**

**Part 4**

Francis knew that he only had a few more seconds left to live when he heard that door slam shut with enough force to knock all of the paintings off of the wall. Particularly when the noise managed to startle the already near-tears Canada into bawling, causing his brother to start crying as well…

So England walked in on a scene that looked like France was trying to tug Kumajiro out of a screaming Canada's arms (he was trying to give the bear back in hope that it would calm the colony down; it wasn't working), while gripping America's arm tightly with the other hand, holding him away from his brother so he couldn't make a grab at the polar bear again.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO ALFRED AND MATTHEW, YOU DAMNED FROG?!?!?!!!"

And, before France could even attempt to defend himself and explain what was really happening, he was on the ground, holding a hand up to his now bleeding, possibly broken nose.

The good thing was that this effectively startled both of the little colonies into silence. For a moment, America blinked down in surprise at the older nation; then he looked up into England's face and immediately broke into a radiant smile. "Iggy!"

England knew the child well enough to know to brace himself now, which was good, as otherwise he would have been knocked over by the force of America throwing himself around his legs. "Hello, Alfred. I'm glad to see that you're all right."

Canada, on the other hand, was now kneeling down beside France, gently patting his head in an attempt at comfort, keeping his grip tight on Kumajiro just in case someone else tried to steal him.

Prussia, who had been standing relatively near the doorway throughout this mess, was now slowly inching closer toward the front door. Since England was distracted, this would be the perfect chance to make his escape. Not because he was afraid…It was just time to grace Austria with his presence. Unfortunately for him, England had noticed this and now turned toward him, eyes flashing in fury. "Don't you dare even think about it."

The awesome Prussia was most definitely not afraid. However, in these sorts of situations, it was probably better to just do what the raging Papa-bear England said to do. So he hurried back over to the couch and sat down next to Spain, who was holding a now-giggling Romano.

Apparently seeing France get punched in the face was rather amusing to him.

At least he'd forgotten about the tomato juice.

And then Italy, who had been staring at France in shock, called out in a rather teary voice, "Ve~ is France-nii dead?"

And that was when England realized that it was not just America and Canada that were here. But that there were actually five little nations having their innocence tainted by these three idiots. And his face turned a shade of red that caused Spain, France, and Prussia to all shrink back slightly in their seats.

"What the fu—hel—What do you think you're doing? Italy and Romano?"

Prussia immediately pointed toward France. "It was all his idea."

France flashed him an irritated glare. Traitor.

For a moment, England looked as if he were about to kill France right on the spot. Especially when he caught a glimpse of what was spread out on top of the formerly-covered table. It was enough to cause a flush to rise to his _own _cheeks. But then he remembered that there were currently five still at least somewhat innocent children watching his every move with intense interest.

He paused, and then spun around and motioned toward Spain. Since, knowing him, he'd probably had the least to do with this idiotic idea. "Spain, why don't you take the kids out of here?" He slid his hand into his pocket, pulling out his wallet. "Let them get some ice cream…"

"ICE CREAM!!" America immediately released England's leg and threw himself at Spain. The promise of ice cream could very easily change the identity of a boy's favourite person of the moment.

Romano immediately flashed the other child a furious glare, while Spain just laughed and patted the boy on the head. "All right, I'll take you to get ice cream."

England pulled out a few bills and then handed them to Canada, who eyed the money curiously. "Go give that to Spain. He's going to take you out to get some ice cream. Pick whatever kind you'd like."

Canada's eyes widened, but he didn't move for a moment. Ice cream or staying here and making sure that his big brother was okay? Ice cream…or France?

After a few seconds, he slowly made his way over to Spain, climbing up onto the sofa and cuddling against the other nation's side.

France groaned. "Traitor."

Romano was getting even more irritated, obviously not enjoying the fact that the other children were encroaching upon his space.

"Hey, Artie?" Prussia called. He'd managed to capture his little brother at some point during this mess and now had him seated on his lap, looking as if he'd much rather be anywhere else. Prussia was hoping that if he had a kid, it might mean that England would be less likely to hurt him. "How 'bout I help Tonio with this? He's got enough on his lap keeping track of Romano, let alone all of the others." He attempted his most innocent look. Which just earned an eye roll from England.

"Fine, go, whatever."

And Prussia was instantly on his feet, grabbing both Italy and Germany's hands and almost dragging them to the front door. "Come on, Tonio! Let's go get ice cream! Quadruple-decker fudge and death by chocolate sundae with chocolate sauce and chocolate sprinkles for me!"

"Ve~ gelato!"

America had by this point crawled up onto Spain's knees and was staring in interest at Romano, who looked about two seconds from hitting the other boy on the head with his sippy cup.

Thankfully, Spain chose this moment to decide to stand up, forcing America back down onto the ground. He instantly grabbed onto Spain's shirt, Canada immediately taking the hand that he wasn't using to keep Romano from attempting to beat up the other kids.

Germany wasn't sure if he should stay behind and try to protect France, who was glaring at all of them as if they were abandoning him to his death.

Then he thought of that picture. It made him feel much less guilty.

Besides, he greatly liked ice cream too.

"You're all traitors!! …Ah, Angleterre, you know I was only trying to be a good role-model to—Ow!!"

**OWARI**

**

* * *

**A/N: I feel like I'd die just by looking at a quadruple-decker fudge and death by chocolate sundae with chocolate sauce and chocolate sprinkles ice cream cone. So. Much. Chocolate. Darn, now I want chocolate ice cream.

And that tis the end :D The next story that I'm going to do is most likely going to be a mafia!Romano adventure fic, so keep watch for that. Not sure when I'll start on it.


End file.
